


Dreams Swinging out of the Blue

by emynn



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Growing Old Together, M/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emynn/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been forty years since Brian first spotted Justin standing beneath that lamppost, and they’re now on the precipice of yet another great adventure. They handle it as they always do — with humor, determination, love, and, of course, great sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams Swinging out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikkiliz713](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiliz713/gifts).



> This is for dragonrider713, who gets all the blame for inspiring this entire concept. This story never would have come to be without her encouragement, so thank you, my love, and I hope you enjoy! The title comes from the song “Forever Young.” And if you recognize a line, chances are it came directly from the show.

Brian groaned as the sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window and threatened to blind him. He’d expressly told Justin to make sure he closed the shades last night, but did the little twat listen?

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, knocking over a dildo and a bottle of lubricant in the process. After shoving the glasses on his face, he squinted over at the window.

Apparently the little twat _had_ listened.

They’d just have to buy new blinds. These blackout ones were clearly defective.

Justin, of course, was nowhere to be found. Yet again, Brian would be forced to track him down, searching every room of the house, calling out his name …

“Brian! In the studio.”

Brian padded down the stairs, stopping by the kitchen first to grab a mug of coffee. Justin made it fresh every morning, come hell or high water. Some people said the key to a successful relationship was to never go to bed angry. Brian and Justin had come to discover it was actually ensuring they always had a pot of strong coffee in the morning. Coffee, and lots of fucking.

He took a sip and immediately felt some of his rage about the goddamn sun melt away. “Hey,” he called out as he walked toward Justin’s studio. He could just make out the back of Justin’s head sticking out over his chair. “We need to go shopping.”

“Not sure we’ll have time today. Can it wait?”

“What do we have -- hey. Matt, isn’t it?”

The young man sitting across from Justin stared at him with eyes that looked as though they were in very real danger of popping out of his head. “Um, Max,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Max Dorian.”

Brian nodded, taking another sip of coffee. Max had been rejected by PIFA a few months ago, and Justin had been giving him weekly lessons to help boost his portfolio. Normally they were on Thursdays, but Brian did vaguely recall Justin saying they had to reschedule for the weekend. 

Justin finally turned around in his chair and gave Brian a grin. “Brian, would you put some pants on? You’re traumatizing Max.”

Brian shrugged. “If he wants to be an art student, he better get used to being around naked men.”

“I don’t -- I don’t mind,” Max stammered.

“You don’t have to lie to salvage an old man’s ego,” Justin said. “He knows his balls belong in a museum.”

“Yeah, because they’re a fucking masterpiece,” Brian said. He came up behind Justin and kissed his cheek, smiling when Justin’s hand came up to caress his face. “Besides, I believe they’re already there.”

It was true. Brian had lost track of the number of nude paintings of himself that were hanging in galleries all around the world. It was a perk to being the partner of one of the most celebrated artists of his generation. Brian couldn’t live forever, but at least through Justin’s paintings, he’d achieve some level of immortality.

“I’m with Max until one,” Justin said. “And then remember you have to meet Eric at two, and then …”

“Yeah, I know,” Brian interrupted. “I’ll call the decorator. We need new blinds.”

“Or, you know, you could try waking up before noon.”

“Now, why would I do that, Sunshine?” Brian asked. “I have big plans for tonight. Plans I can only fulfill if I’ve gotten a full night’s rest.”

Loud spluttering came from behind them, and Brian straightened. “Something in your throat, Max?”

Max’s face grew even redder. “Um, no. Sorry. Was just … never heard about Sunshine, is all.”

Brian nodded. “Right,” he said, stretching out the single syllable into two. He ruffled Justin’s hair. “I have to take a shower.”

Justin reached for his hand and brought it down to his lips. “Okay. Big day ahead for you.”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “For us,” he corrected, and was immediately rewarded with one of Justin’s warm, wide smiles that lit up his entire face. Brian kissed the top of his head, and, after giving a gobsmacked Max a wink, left the room.

It may have taken him forty years, but he was pretty sure he had fucking nailed the art of relationships. At least with Justin, anyway. And that was really the only one that mattered.

“You know, I think I get the Sunshine thing now,” Brian could just make out Max saying. He paused, wanting to hear Justin’s response.

“Yeah,” Justin said. 

It may have only been one word, but his tone spoke volumes. Content, Brian headed up the stairs. He had a lot to get done today.

* * *

“So, how are you holding up?” Justin asked after they parked the car and walked to the restaurant for his meeting with Eric.

“You mean other than the fact it feels like my knee’s been put through a meat grinder?”

“I did warn you it would be risky to do it doggy style on the floor,” Justin said. “You know that’s why we splurged on that mattress.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I’m seventy, not dead. If I want to fuck on the floor, I’ll goddamn fuck on the floor.”

“Of course you will,” Justin said, squeezing Brian’s hand. “Although tonight I’m thinking maybe a long massage, a little _soixante neuf_ , and a nice long screw into that _very_ expensive mattress.”

“Well, that sounds wonderful, Sunshine,” Brian said. “But what will we do after the first hour?”

Justin laughed. “Feeling ambitious, huh?”

“Saw Dr. Kelly last week,” Brian said. “He renewed my prescription.”

Once upon a time Brian would have scoffed at the idea of using performance enhancement drugs. He certainly didn’t _need_ them. Even with only one working testicle, Brian was confident he and Justin could have a perfectly satisfactory sex life without those little blue pills. However, satisfactory was bullshit, and the pills meant Brian could come several times in one night instead of just once. And if there was anything Brian took seriously these days, it was maximizing his pleasure, particularly with Justin. 

“I’ll have to send Dr. Kelly a thank you note,” Justin said. He frowned. “You’re limping. Are you sure you don’t need your cane? I can grab it from the car.”

“The only reason I’ll need a cane is if you’re begging me to use it on your ass,” Brian said.

Justin shook his head and intentionally bumped into Brian’s side. Brian took the hint and wrapped his arm around his waist, drawing him in close. They walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in companionable silence. With Justin supporting him, Brian’s knee didn’t even hurt so badly, which he suspected was Justin’s intention all along. Brian decided not to call him out on it. He’d learned long ago it wasn’t worth it to fight the little things that actually made his life better.

When they reached the door, however, Brian hesitated. Since coming to this decision three months ago, he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to look back, but that was somewhat easier to do when he was still dealing with it in the abstract. Now that reality was setting in, he felt as if his entire body was being compressed in a vise. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You okay?” Justin asked, pressing his hand to Brian’s back.

Brian nodded. “I never thought I’d do this.”

Justin kissed the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think anybody did,” he said. “Having second thoughts?”

Brian rubbed his thumb across Justin’s cheekbone. Numerous smile lines creased his face, and his eyelids hung heavier than they once did. But his eyes were still the same sparkling cornflower blue, and his smile was still like sunshine, and his voice still made Brian’s whole body light on fire. And every day Brian looked at him, he was still struck by how very young he was, his brave, handsome, passionate Justin Taylor. And how he still looked at Brian the same way he did when he was seventeen, as though he was the only person in the universe who mattered.

“No,” Brian said, and tugged Justin in close. “Not one.”

Cupping the back of Brian’s head, Justin pulled him down for a deep kiss. Brian groaned and turned him so he was pressed against the brick wall, then braced his leg between Justin’s thighs, grinding into him. He remembered how he once dreaded this inevitable sign of old age, losing the ability to instantly grow hard the second Justin’s tongue entered his mouth. But now he found the more gradual rise intoxicating in its own right, a slow build to an inevitable heart-pounding climax. 

“Excuse me. Mr. Kinney?”

After one last parting kiss, Brian turned, still keeping one arm wrapped around Justin’s waist. “Eric,” he said, shaking his hand. “Right on time.”

“Claudia gave very clear directions,” Eric said. His eyes darted toward Justin, who was rubbing small circles over that spot in Brian’s lower back that seemed to ache constantly these days.

“Eric, this is Justin Taylor,” Brian said. 

“Ah, right,” Eric said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. You’re --”

“Mr. Kinney’s catamite,” Justin said. He waggled his eyebrows, reminding Brian quite forcefully of the feisty teenager who held a condom between his teeth as he went off to find a trick at Woody’s to fuck on a school night. “Nice to meet you.”

Eric, to his credit, didn’t look at all perturbed. _Good._ “Will you be joining us?”

“No,” Justin said. “This is between the two of you. Besides, I have to head to the airport.” He leaned up to give Brian a quick kiss, a kiss Brian naturally turned into a much longer one. “Let me know when you’re wrapping up and I’ll come get you.”

“Mr. Taylor certainly seems to live up to his rather exceptional reputation,” Eric said as they watched Justin walk away from them. 

“Always has,” Brian said, holding the door open and ushering Eric in. “Always will.”

* * *

“Wow,” Gus said, leaning back in his chair. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I didn’t trust your mothers not to pry it out of you,” Brian said, handing him a beer. “I know they’ve been dying to find out ever since I sent them the airline tickets.”

“You have to admit you made it all sound very mysterious.”

“Of course I fucking did,” Brian said, taking a sip from his own drink. “I had to make sure everyone showed up.”

“Well, you definitely accomplished that,” Gus said. “Did Justin tell you we ran into Emmett and Drew at the airport?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, he said it was a full house. But I can’t help but notice there’s definitely one fewer person than I expected.”

Gus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Off-again.”

“Now, now, sonny boy,” Brian said. “What did you do this time?”

“What makes you think it was me?”

Brian raised an eyebrow.

Gus leaned his head over the back of his chair and stared up at the ceiling. Brian couldn’t help but feel as though he was staring into a window of his own past. It wasn’t just that Gus looked exactly like Brian did at forty. It was his posture, his defeated expression … and that unmistakable air of a man who was ass over tit in love and didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

It seemed history had a habit of repeating itself after all.

“You know, I was your age when I decided to move to New York.”

Gus groaned. “No offense, Dad, but I’m not really in the mood for the ‘back in my day’ stories.”

“And I’m not in the mood to get lip from insolent little twats, so how about you shut your trap and respect your elders?” Brian retorted. He took another long swallow from his beer and set it down. “Now, what’s my life motto?”

“No apologies, no regrets,” Gus recited, rolling his eyes.

“Good,” Brian said. “Now, you should know that goes double when you’re in love.”

“Dad --”

“I told you to shut your trap,” Brian said. “Now, you love Alex, don’t you?”

“It’s complicated,” Gus said.

“That’s Kinney-speak for yes,” Brian said. “Now, I’m going to tell you something else, Kinney to Kinney: that’s the only thing that’s important. All the rest of it, the questions, the fears, the anxiety … they’ll all work themselves out eventually so long as that first part is true. So do you know what you do? You say ‘fuck it,’ and you go for what you want, and you work your ass off to make it work. Everything else? They’re just distractions.”

Gus shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

“Did I fucking say it was easy?” Brian asked. “Justin and I spent almost five years living in different states, and it was hell.”

“Aww, did Daddy miss his widdle sweetheart?” Gus asked, smirking. 

Brian wondered how Justin never managed to smack him for that expression. “Of course I fucking did. But that wasn’t what made it hell. We were so desperate for some sort of sign from each other that our feelings hadn’t changed that we went out of our way to make each other miserable, just to test our limits. We lashed out at each other. We fought all the time. We were stubborn and petty and spiteful.”

Gus raised his eyebrows. “So why didn’t you just break up?”

“Because every time we came close to it, we realized that we didn’t actually want to,” Brian said. “We were fighting so much because we loved each other and hated being apart and, as usual, we were fucking terrible at communicating that. But eventually we finally caught onto the fact that when we were together, we were happy. Didn’t exactly take rocket science to figure out what to do.”

“So you just packed up and moved to New York?”

Brian nodded. “Justin’s career was just taking off, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to come back here. And I was looking for some new challenges. Kinnetik - New York was open within a year. And Justin and I haven’t lived apart since.”

“Simple as that?” Gus asked.

“Simple as that,” Brian said. “I told you, Gus. Everything else? Just distractions.”

Gus shook his head. “So I guess it’s true what they say about wisdom coming with age.”

“If you take that thought any further I’ll beat you with my cane. And then tell the arresting officer I’m senile so they can’t throw me into prison.”

“Yeah, they’ll just toss you into a nursing home instead. And I don’t know if they allow conjugal visits.”

Brian flipped him off and then reached for his beer, only to find it missing. Shit, if he actually _was_ going senile …

“Of course they allow conjugal visits,” came a familiar voice behind him. “Their residents are old, not dead.”

Brian grinned as he felt Justin grip his shoulder before coming to sit on the arm of his chair. “That was some nap, Sunshine. Where’s your youthful vitality?”

“You know how seriously I take my beauty sleep,” Justin said. He took a swig from the bottle and then handed it back to Brian. “Hey, my mom just called. She convinced her nurse she’s well enough to make it out tonight.”

Brian nodded. Jennifer Taylor had proven to be the woman who refused to die, much to both of their relief. Even a particularly nasty bout of pneumonia the month before hadn’t been able to stop her. While she was still recovering, under the careful watch of an around-the-clock nursing staff Brian and Justin had hired, Brian fully expected her to order them both to be at her house for Wine Wednesday before too long.

“So, what did I miss?” Justin asked, wrapping his arm around Brian’s shoulders. “Have you been dispensing pearls of wisdom to your offspring in an attempt to get him to avoid the mistakes of your misspent youth?”

“You think you know me so well,” Brian said, sliding his hand up the back of Justin’s shirt. Predictably, because Justin did fucking know him and Brian knew him just as well, the touch led to Justin leaning down for a long kiss.

Gus cleared his throat. “I have to make a phone call.”

Brian grinned and tugged Justin down onto his lap. Somehow, he expected Alex would make it tonight after all.

* * *

“Brian! We’re going to be late.”

“It’s impossible for us to be late,” Brian said. He studied his reflection in the mirror, adjusted his tie, and then tugged it off in disgust. Fuck, how had he acquired so many hideous ties in his lifetime? “I’m the one throwing the goddamn party.”

“Tell that to the driver waiting for us outside,” Justin said, coming into their bedroom and leaning against the doorframe. “At this rate, even Gus is going to beat us, and he had to stop at the airport first.”

“Not likely,” Brian grumbled, trying on another tie. “They’ll need to spend at least an hour engaging in some relationship affirming fucking. Shit!”

Justin came up behind Brian, just narrowly avoiding being hit in the face with a flying piece of silk. “You know, we’re _definitely_ not going to make it if we have to squeeze in an emergency shopping trip first.”

“This is fucking pathetic,” Brian said, frowning at his reflection. 

“What’s wrong with this one?” Justin said, holding up a tie Brian had thrown on the bed. “I always liked you in blue.”

Brian shook his head. Blue seemed so … tired.

“Okay,” Justin said slowly, eying the contents of Brian’s closet. “How about red? Red’s powerful. Makes a statement”

“I can’t wear red,” Brian said. He might as well scream out that he was an old man clinging to the last vestiges of his youth.

“Why the fuck not?” Justin asked. “You wore it just last week.”

“That was different,” Brian said. He pursed his lips, held one hand up to his jaw as he carefully examined his reflection. He didn’t look like the Crypt Keeper, at least, not yet. He’d even gotten used to his glasses, thick black frames that were actually trendy these days, thank fuck. But his skin wasn’t as tight, and even his $100 an ounce facial moisturizer imported monthly from Paris hadn’t been able to stop the wrinkles from creeping onto his face. His hair was still mostly dark, but the gray peeking out from his temples had recently begun to transform into thick silver streaks. Absently, he pulled at some of the offending strands, suddenly hating how familiar their coarseness felt in his hand.

“Hey,” Justin said. He came up behind him and took Brian’s hand, then smoothed back his hair. “This night is for you. You get to wear whatever you want.”

“What I want is to not be fucking doing this,” Brian snapped.

Justin took a step back. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “I said that from the very beginning.”

Brian rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean that …”

Justin sighed and rested his chin on Brian’s shoulder. “Do you remember when you spent a fortune trying to cover up this gorgeous silver hair?”

Of course Brian fucking remembered. The first gray hair had arrived on the morning of his 50th birthday. He’d plucked it, naturally, but then it returned a week later with all its little army buddies, staging a complete infiltration. Brian had immediately made an emergency visit to the hair salon, but as he sat in the chair, he’d felt like such a fucking fraud. There he was, an old man only growing older, trying to disguise the fact with some pretty colors.

Kind of like what he was doing now.

“Remember what I told you?” Justin continued, and nibbled Brian’s ear.

“Yeah,” Brian said. “You revealed that your gerophilia only grew stronger with age.”

“Because the gray hair makes you hot as hell,” Justin said, punctuating each word with a kiss down Brian’s neck. “Makes me want to get on my knees and call you ‘sir.’”

“Which you did, if I recall,” Brian said. He moaned; Justin always knew exactly what spots on his neck were the most sensitive, and he worked them to his advantage.

“I did,” Justin said. “How could I resist? Here was this gorgeous man I was madly in love with, and now he somehow looked more worldly and sophisticated than ever before. And what’s more, I had _watched_ this happen. I had been there by his side as he went from Babylon’s star club boy to Kinnetik CEO to the man who was willing to sacrifice everything to be with me. I was there when he decided to make the move to New York to give us a real chance of a future. I was there when he fucking took over the biggest city in the US. And I was there when he realized how much I missed Pittsburgh and our family here and he insisted we come back, even though his new Manhattan office was more successful than ever, just to make me happy.”

Brian tore his gaze away from the mirror to look Justin straight on. “Justin.”

“I was there for every line and wrinkle and gray hair. And I’ll tell you now the exact same thing I did when I told you that you should stop dying your hair, and I don’t care if you yell at me now the same way you did then: I am so fucking proud of the man you’ve become and all you’ve done. What you see in the mirror … those aren’t signs of aging. They’re evidence of all that you’ve accomplished.”

Brian sighed and lowered his forehead until it was pressed against Justin’s. “A sentiment as trite as it was the first dozen times you gave some version of that pep talk,” he declared, cupping the back of Justin’s neck. “But no less appreciated.”

“I’ll take trite as long as it gets you off your ass and into the car,” Justin said.

Brian laughed. “One track mind.”

Justin gave him a quick kiss and then disentangled himself from Brian’s embrace. “Learned from the master.” He dug through Brian’s closet, then tossed him a tie. “Try this one.”

Brian turned it over in his hands. He’d never worn this tie, at least not in public, and not for its intended purpose. And yet he’d always kept it tucked away safely, one of the few neckties he kept in its original box. “It’s kind of formal.”

“So?” Justin said. “Who’s going to care? And why the hell would you?”

“Fair point,” Brian said, and quickly tied it around his neck. He didn’t look half as ridiculous as he thought he would. “Not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Justin agreed, and stepped back into Brian’s arms. Brian tangled his fingers in his hair and kissed him as tenderly as he had the last time he’d worn this tie, when they’d been standing together at Hugo Boss, being fitted for the tuxes for their wedding. Brian remembered being struck then by all the mirrors, how their numerous reflections had seemed to fill the entire room. He had taken it as a good omen, like the apparition of the eighth king holding up a looking glass to symbolize how all Banquo’s heirs would become kings. For a while, after Justin had first moved to New York, Brian had berated himself for letting such a sentimental thought run rampant through his brain, even for a fleeting moment. But now, as they stood together in front of a single mirror, looking somehow like the aged descendants of their own former selves, Brian didn’t think his original assessment was that far off.

“I love you,” Brian whispered. After forty years, the words came easily. There was nothing to fear in words, after all, especially not with Justin. But he still preferred to reserve them for moments that truly meant something; given how long it took him to say them out loud, the last thing he wanted was for the words to lose their meaning through overuse. But this was one of those meaningful moments.

“I love you, too,” Justin said, and gave Brian one final kiss. “Ready?”

Brian took one last look at the two of them in the mirror, drew a deep breath, and squeezed Justin’s hand. “Ready.”

* * *

It was a different atmosphere at Babylon tonight. Granted, Brian may not have been the best judge of that given how he hadn’t set foot inside the club in nearly twenty years. He’d wanted to remember it as it was in his glory days, when he was on top, and not how it would be like when all the gorgeous young men groped each other and wondered when the creepy aging owner would stop stalking the dance floor. So, on one of their first visits back to Pittsburgh after Brian moved to New York, he and Justin had enjoyed one last wild, drug and orgy filled night at Babylon before hanging up their dancing shoes, so to speak.

Brian had clung to the club for a few more years, but as he poured more and more of his time and energy into expanding Kinnetik across the country, he eventually realized Babylon deserved to be owned by somebody who was still getting his dick sucked in the back room.  
He sold it to Hunter’s son, Kevin, who’d been looking for a new opportunity after getting burned out as a lawyer. While he couldn’t say that he’d never looked back -- Babylon had practically been his second home for two decades, after all -- he didn’t miss it the way he’d always thought he would. He’d managed to find that _thumpa thumpa_ in other aspects of his life, and it was more than enough to fill the Babylon-shaped void.

But still, from everything Brian heard from Kevin and from the boys who still ordered their eggs and coffee at the Diner, Babylon was still the hottest club in town. (Good, or else Brian would have had to castrate Kevin, Hunter’s feelings be damned.) And yet while the music was still loud tonight, and the bass still throbbed beneath Brian’s feet, it somehow felt calmer than he remembered. Probably because the median age in the club tonight was at least twice what it usually was. Brian tried not to think about that too much.

Instead he focused on all the people who were there. Granted, the invitations he’d sent were all vaguely threatening, and he knew the element of mystery was a large reason many of them had bothered to show up. Still, Brian didn’t really care about the why. For all he knew, this could be the last time this group was together. And while once in his youth that thought wouldn’t have even fazed him, he now realized just how rare and critical an opportunity it was.

There were Mel and Lindsay, sipping cocktails with Jenny Rebecca and her new husband. Gus and Alex had apparently kissed and made up, and looked like they were one more strong drink away from fucking in the middle of the room. Emmett and Drew were on the dance floor, of course, moving together as if they had not lost their rhythm for even a second over the past few decades. Ted was chatting with Jennifer, who looked rather like a queen holding court as she sat in her wheelchair, smiling and laughing as people came up to her to say hello. And of course, Justin and Daphne were giggling away like two high schoolers thrilled with themselves for managing to sneak into a club past curfew. Brian had a feeling Justin had already spilled the reason for tonight’s events to her, but he didn’t really care. Besides, it would give him good leverage the next time he need to wheedle something out of him. 

Even Mikey was there, albeit looking far less animated than he once did; Ben’s death the previous year had taken him by surprise, and he still hadn’t fully recovered. Brian didn’t blame him. In fact, seeing Michael standing there, conversing with his old friends but clearly not engaged, much of the light gone from his eyes, only solidified Brian’s conviction that he had made the right decision. 

Brian glanced down at his watch, a Christmas present from Justin many years ago. He’d have to make his announcement soon. He’d expected to feel some level of trepidation, to feel his heart pounding out his chest or his palms to sweat. Brian Kinney didn’t get nervous, but he was also about to do something Brian Kinney would never do, so that entire premise should have been bullshit. And yet, he felt no differently than when he was about to go in to give a big pitch. Except when he went in to meet with a client, there was still always a tiny nagging doubt in the back of his mind that he had missed some minor detail and it would derail his entire approach. That doubt, to Brian’s surprise, was nowhere in sight tonight. He knew, with complete certainty, that he was making the right call.

He came up behind Justin, pressed his hand to the small of his back. “Hello, Daphne,” he said. “You’re looking breathtaking, as always. Mind if I steal Justin away for a minute?”

Daphne laughed and waved them away, and Brian led Justin over to a raise platform in the center of the room.

“Ready?” Justin asked.

Brian nodded. “After you,” he said, nodding at the platform.

“You want me to be up there with you?” Justin asked.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Unless all that talk about you being by my side all my life was just bullshit.”

Justin laughed and climbed up to the platform, Brian right behind him. The music stopped the second they reached the top. Brian placed his hands on the landing and looked out over the crowd. Here he was, once again, the undisputed god of Babylon, looking down over his kingdom of perverts and degenerates. His friends, his family, his colleagues. All there, looking up at him, with his lover and best friend by his side.

This was where he lived.

This was who he was. 

And now he stood here, once again, on the precipice of a new world.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Brian said, and even without a microphone, his voice carried throughout the entire room. “Ever the egomaniac, I gave you next to no information and demanded you come here, despite the fact that some of you live across the country, or even in fucking Canada. But it was important to me that you all be here, so thank you for indulging my over inflated sense of self one last time.”

Justin moved ever so slightly closer to Brian and discreetly rubbed his lower back, and Brian realized he perhaps was slightly more tense than he’d realized. Leave it to Justin to figure that out.

“I’ll keep it brief so you can all get back to the drinking and fucking that’s actually supposed to be taking place at Babylon, instead of some old geriatric waxing poetic about the good old days,” Brian said. “Over the past few decades, I’ve enjoyed tremendous success as the founder and CEO of Kinnetik. With the help of my colleagues and friends, we accomplished what they said was impossible: we opened a small ad agency during a shaky economy in fucking Pittsburgh, and turned it into an international entity, with seven branches in the US and one in London.”

There was a moment of applause, during which Brian felt Justin’s hand sneak in under the waistband of his trousers. Best to speed this along, then.

“I’m proud to say that Kinnetik has never been in better shape,” Brian said, “which is why I feel completely comfortable in announcing that I am stepping down as CEO, effective immediately. Come Monday, Kinnetik will be run by Eric Stone, who has spent the last four years leading our Baltimore division.”

It seemed as though time had come to a complete stop. Brian took in all the wide eyes and the slacken jaws and smirked. _This_ was why he’d insisted on doing this big. Even after all these years, reducing his friends to speechlessness was one of his favorite pastimes.

Of course, the silence inevitably led to loud murmurs, and Brian had to put a stop to that. “Before any rumors begin to spread, let me just say that no, I’m not dying, at least, not of anything other than the unfortunately inevitable old age. I’m not sick. I’m not losing my mind.”

Brian watched as the crowd’s concerned gaze inched away from him and over toward Justin.

“I’m not any of those things, either,” Justin said, apparently noticing the shift as well. “I’ll be filling the role of Brian’s hot young lover for many more years. Just so we’re clear.”

The crowd heaved a collective relieved sigh.

“This is simply a realignment of my priorities,” Brian continued. “A man needs to go where he’s needed most. For me, that place is no longer Kinnetik. But there are other places that could very much use my contributions, and that’s where I’m going to be spending my time. And I’ll leave the rest of you twats to think of a hot way to sell organic dog biscuits.”

No longer interested in the crowd’s reaction, and growing more and more aroused by Justin’s hand working its way down his pants, Brian turned to pull him in for a deep kiss. In that moment, as they stood entwined together on top of the platform and the music swelled to its original volume, it felt just like old times. Brian was dimly aware there was a crowd around him, and most likely a number of eyes glued to their every movement, but the only thing he could focus on was the incredible man in his arms. It felt as thrilling and heady as ever, and when he closed his eyes, Brian could almost believe they had never even left.

Brian pulled Justin even closer to him, leading them in one last dance.

* * *

The main advantage to having a driver, of course, was that it meant Brian and Justin could begin jerking each other off before they even left the parking lot and didn’t have to worry about accidentally crashing the car into a tree in the process.

As soon as the car came to a stop in front of their house, Brian pulled Justin out of the car and led him by the hand up the stairs with an alacrity that would have made a 20-year-old Brian Kinney proud. Contrary to what he had feared, announcing his retirement hadn’t made him feel suddenly old and decrepit. If anything, the complete freedom from any sort of responsibility other than Justin’s pleasure reinvigorated him; he felt younger than he had in years. 

And now, with Justin spread out on the bed, arching into his touch, Brian felt just as important and powerful as he had their first night together. He hadn’t completely understood it then, why he had taken the responsibility of Justin’s de-flowering so personally. But now it made sense. Somehow, starting from the second Brian had spotted Justin standing beneath that lamppost, everything had been leading up to this. At the time, the only thing Brian had to offer him in recompense was an amazing fuck, but it had been enough to bring Justin back time and time again. And because of that, Justin had changed the entire course of Brian’s life, leading finally to this moment, standing together on the brink of a new forever. This wasn’t a future Brian ever could have anticipated wanting, the idea of not only growing old, but growing old alongside a single person, but now that it was within his grasp, he was never letting go.

The same could be said for his approach in fucking Justin tonight. Brian was determined to take his time as he worked his way up and down Justin’s body, dropping kisses on any spot of skin he could reach, but never untangling his fingers from Justin’s grip. By the time Brian had reached for the lubricant and was carefully stretching Justin, they were both entirely on edge. 

Brian took him slowly, wanting to feel every millimeter as he thrust in and out. At some point over the decades, fucking Justin had stopped feeling like one body fucking another. Somehow, Justin had simply become an extension of himself. Brian wanted to melt into him, to let Justin swallow him whole. Justin groaned and gripped him by the shoulders, pulling him in even closer, rising to meet his every thrust. 

“Brian,” Justin gasped. “Fuck, right there.”

And that was another benefit of having spent so many years being with Justin, fucking Justin, loving Justin -- Brian knew his body better than his own. He knew exactly how to position himself to make Justin cry out, knew what would make him moan, knew exactly how to make Justin grab him so hard there would be bruises the next morning. And he used that knowledge to his advantage, driving them both as close to the edge as he dared.

“Now, Brian. Please.”

Brian swallowed Justin’s plea with his mouth, kissing him as he brought his hand to Justin’s dick, stroking him in time with his thrusts. It only took a moment before Justin was coming all over his hand, his entire body shaking with the force of it. Brian pounded into him one, two, three more times before shooting his load inside of him. Completely spent, he wanted to collapse into Justin’s arms immediately. Instead he forced himself to crouch down between Justin’s legs and carefully lick up the come dripping from his hole, grinning at his whimpers.

“Well, well, Mr. Kinney,” Justin said, tugging Brian up so he could rest on his chest, “I have to say that retirement certainly agrees with you.”

“You didn’t think it’d slow me down, did you?” Brian asked, twirling Justin’s hair. “Now I’ll have even more energy to focus on giving you the fucking of your young life.”

Justin laughed and traced the outline of Brian’s nipple with his thumb, rubbing it to a firm nub. “You know, I still can’t really believe this is happening.”

“Did you think I’d back out?” Brian asked.

“No,” Justin said. “It’s just such an entirely foreign concept. Your work has always been such a huge part of your identity. And it all happened so fast -- just one day you came home and said you were stepping down, and three months later, here we are. I still don’t even really know what made you decide to do it.”

Brian sighed. There’d been a reason he’d moved swiftly with his decision, and even more of a reason why he’d been so vague when Justin had asked what brought about the sudden change of heart: he was afraid if he stopped to think about it for too long, he’d pussy out and end up back behind his desk at Kinnetik for the rest of his life. And since he knew Justin would support him unequivocally no matter what his ultimate decision was, he’d carefully hidden away any fears he had. He’d needed to do this, end of story. So he’d simply employed the tried and true Brian Kinney method, and acted as though he didn’t have a fucking care or doubt in the world. Eventually, he’d started to believe it. But even he knew he couldn’t keep up the front for long. Not anymore. Not with Justin. 

“I realized I wasn’t living up to my own philosophies,” Brian said. “And you know how I hate hypocrites.”

“Of course,” Justin said. He stretched one arm out, tracing lazy circles on Brian’s stomach. “We couldn’t have that.”

“No,” Brian agreed. “Especially when what I’d be losing was you.”

Justin stilled. “You were afraid you’d lose me?”

“I knew I would. I knew I was,” Brian said. 

“Brian …”

“Listen, Sunshine,” Brian said. “Even you can’t stop time. It’s a goddamn miracle I’ve made it to seventy, given the the sheer volume of illicit substances I’ve put in my body over the years. This whole show could be over tomorrow.”

“Don’t say that,” Justin said sharply.

“It’s true,” Brian said. “And you’re … you’ll have many more years without me.”

“I’m not fucking kidding,” Justin said. “This isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t say it was funny,” Brian said. “But it’s no use dancing around the facts. I somehow managed to make it this far, but who knows how long before old age catches up to me?”

“You’re not old,” Justin insisted.

“Flattering, but not practical,” Brian said. “Now, would you shut up for a minute? I’m trying to explain something.”

Justin shut his mouth, but still looked faintly mutinous.

“I don’t know how much longer I have,” Brian said. “Maybe it’s five years, maybe it’s thirty. But regardless, I don’t want to spend what ever time I have left working on ad campaigns. I’ve already spent decades doing that, and Kinnetik can get along just fine without me.”

“They’re going to miss you,” Justin said.

“I didn’t say they wouldn’t miss me,” Brian said. “But they don’t need me. And besides, that’s not what I want my legacy to be. I want to spend the rest of my time where it matters most, where it might actually make a difference whether I’m around or not. And that’s here.”

Justin looked suspiciously close to tears. Brian gingerly took his hand in his, rubbing the webbing between his thumb and forefinger in a way he knew soothed him.

“I want to live my life as I always did,” Brian said quietly. “No apologies. No regrets. And now that means soaking up as much Sunshine as I possibly can.”

Justin launched himself at Brian, burying his head in his shoulder. He was shaking, and Brian suspected the dam had burst and he was crying. Even after all these years, Brian was never really sure how to handle these moments; it was fairly rare for Justin to cry at all, and Brian had never evolved into the warm and fuzzy type. So he settled for simply holding Justin as close as he possibly could, which, fortunately, was exactly what he felt like doing in that moment. He buried his face in Justin’s hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, and waited out the storm.

It was so long before Justin moved that Brian thought he might have fallen asleep, but just as Brian was about to pull the blankets over them, Justin sniffed and lifted his head. He pressed his lips to the corner of Brian’s mouth and once again reached for his hand. “So, now what?” he asked. “What do we do?”

“Exactly what we’ve always done,” Brian said, lacing their fingers together. “Whatever the fuck we want.”

Justin smiled, that special smile that he still reserved solely for Brian, that one that still made Brian feel as though his entire body was radiating with warmth. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

Brian kissed the top of his head. He may not have found the secret to eternal youth, but with Justin, he’d found something even better: a world where forever was nowhere near long enough, and a life that, no matter how brutally short it may be, was worth living.

With no apologies.

And no regrets.


End file.
